Into Darkness
by Heather Cat
Summary: A dark songfic about a Turk's thoughts as he lies awake knowing what comes in the morning. Set to the song 'Weathered' by Creed


Into Darkness  
  
By Heather Cat  
  
  
  
Reno lay awake in the darkness, staring at the white plaster ceiling. The window was open despite the late autumn chill, and the thin curtains fluttered in the breeze. There was almost no moonlight tonight; clouds hid most of the sky.  
  
Reno wondered with bitter amusement at how appropriate that was. There were no clear blue skies in his future, and neither did he desire them. This city, no, the whole fucking world was just one rough sea where the only law was Every Man for Himself. In the depths of his tortured mind, Reno clung to the wreckage of a ship lost to the pounding waves long ago.  
  
I lie awake on a long dark night  
  
I can't seem to tame my mind  
  
Distantly he wondered what life would have been like as anyone else. To live without the constant fear, without the fire of dread coursing through your veins and burning you alive. Reno could, and certainly would, take a bullet if he were paid too, but to stand in front of the train and watch it bearing down on you.  
  
Life as a Turk had its perks, but those were just there to hide the reality. 'Bodyguards', 'recruiters'; these were hollow words. Reno would have called them demons and would have hit the truth dead on.  
  
Slings and arrows are killing me inside  
  
Maybe I can't accept the life that's mine  
  
No I can't accept the life that's mine  
  
Every day was just another hollow charade; he just another puppet being manipulated endlessly by that goddamn Shinra. If Reno had had any will of his own left, he might have had a chance. But it was far to late for that. Every day, to every person he'd seen on the street, he'd tried to scream out for help. But the words never came, and eventually the cold indifference had settled over his soul.  
  
Simple living is my desperate cry  
  
Been trading love with indifference yeah it suits me just fine  
  
When Reno was assigned to get someone out of the way, he'd do it without a second thought. He would have liked to call himself an angel of death, but hell, that was too flattering. The cold void just seemed to take over until there were no survivors. Many had tried to beat him into something that could be called human, but they were too late, too late. The maelstrom whirled endlessly in the eternal night of Reno's soul.  
  
I try to hold on but I'm calloused to the bone  
  
Maybe that's why I feel alone  
  
Maybe that's why I feel so alone  
  
Was life worth living? That was a question that beat itself into his skull every day. He almost feared to get up every morning, knowing the doubts and horrors that would take hold as soon as he put on The Jacket. Consciousness was highly overrated in his books, and he frequently turned to alcohol or drugs to cure him of that particular ailment. Life was black as the city slums, and there was only the hope that one day that hellish plate would fall and put an end to the misery. There was no other escape from Midgar.  
  
Me. I'm rusted and weathered  
  
Barely holding together  
  
I'm covered with skin that peals and it just won't heal  
  
Every once in a while someone would throw a party, he would go as company policy and make polite conversation. It was his job to look good in public, and he'd politely steer clear of the offered wine with a plastic smile and a terrible desire for the emptiness it would bring. And afterwards he would head for the nearest bar and then drink himself into oblivion.  
  
The sun shines and I can't avoid the light  
  
I think I'm holding on to life too tight  
  
Suicide? It was something that happened to other people. Never a Turk. The Shinra never left enough free will in the heart of a Turk to let them have that much self-control. They went where they were told and did what they were told to. Any pretense of giving up, or the smallest sign of weakness would result in your career's immediate termination. Not only your career's.  
  
Of course he wanted a way out. Any way out. But that didn't mean he had the strength to take it.  
  
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust  
  
Sometimes I feel like giving up  
  
Sometimes I feel like giving up  
  
What did he want out of life, then? A very difficult question. Maybe it was weakness; maybe he was just a damned optimist in the end. No matter how bad things got, there were always Rude, Tseng and Elena. Although their relationships were strictly professional, there was a kind of fierce loyalty between them that brooked no opposition. One drunken evening, Reno had called it Turk Pride.  
  
Me. I'm rusted and weathered  
  
Barely holding together  
  
I'm covered with skin that peals and it just won't heal  
  
They had friendship. It was the only lifeline that kept him to sanity. The Turks were a group, and they would stay that way. If one of them came out the loser in a particular deal, you could be sure the dealer wouldn't be waking up in the morning. They looked out for one another. Reno remembered with a smirk the day he'd gotten his scars.  
  
The day reminds me of you  
  
The night hides your truth  
  
The earth is a voice  
  
Speaking to you  
  
He had been cornered by a group of old 'acquaintances' on his way back from a job in Sector 3. Out of spite, fear, and more then a little hatred, they had given him these to remember his old neighborhood by. He'd been too drunk to fight back, and he remembered returning to the Turks' office that night with one eye swollen shut and a bloody lip he couldn't speak around for days. Upon seeing him, Tseng had turned icy cold and made a vague excuse before slipping into the darkness.  
  
The next day, it had been all over the news. The infamous Cobra gang had been found dead in an abandoned warehouse, their throats slit down to a man.  
  
Take all this pride  
  
And leave it behind  
  
Because one day it ends  
  
One day we die  
  
Knowing that there was someone watching your back was the ultimate comfort, even in a world where the one watching might be sharpening his knife. But the Turks were a group, and blood bound them together.  
  
Reno got up, knowing he wasn't going to get any sleep. It was only an hour till dawn anyway, so he forced himself out of the cold bed and into the shower. Next came those hated clothes, which he put on without so much as a shiver. They were a part of him, as much a part of him as the flaming red hair or the chilly blue eyes.  
  
Believe what you will  
  
That is your right  
  
No, life could take what it wanted. Reno would take his share and go on living anyway. Some people called him inhuman, others a man of ice. They were only partly right. As Reno shrugged on his jacket without bothering to do it up, his eyes glittered with his devilish grin. Picking up his small black pistol, Reno checked it over before carefully pocketing it.  
  
Stepping out the door, he smiled a smile that had never felt warmth, and walked into the night. He would play life's game all right, but he'd do it by his rules. Because Reno was part man, and all demon.  
  
But I choose to win  
  
So I choose to fight  
  
To fight  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~ 


End file.
